


Caution tape around my heart

by Dylanobrienisbatman



Series: Blarke [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Awkward Conversations, Exes to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Forgiveness, Loss of Trust, Makeup, Post-Break Up, Rebuilding, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 02:24:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylanobrienisbatman/pseuds/Dylanobrienisbatman
Summary: Six years, a lot of distance, and even more anger and pain made Bellamy more than a little bitter, and even more anxious about seeing Clarke Griffin again. The walls he built up were well enforced by now, and he wasn't sure it was worth the effort to break them down, but some little part of him seemed to have other ideas.





	Caution tape around my heart

Bellamy had always hated hospitals, his whole life he had hated them. At first it had just been in that way everyone did, the too sterile smell, the sick people everywhere, how there was always that one doctor who was sort of a dick but you couldn’t be a dick back because he was literally performing a procedure on you right then and there. But then, when he was 16, his mom died in a hospital, from a drug overdose, and that was the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. He was always on the brink of a panic attack when he was in hospitals, and the slightest thing would set him into a spiral that would take hours to come back from. And then, when he was 25, he found out he had cancer. He fell, playing soccer with friends, and the bruise just grew and grew and grew, over the next week, until it was almost his whole thigh, and he went to get it checked out, and they told him he had stage 3 non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. He was 31 years old now, and had been in remission for almost 3 full years, but his monthly checkups with his doctor still required an anti-anxiety pill beforehand and some serious attempts at meditation (recommended by his therapist that he had during treatment). It was his 2 year and 10 month checkup, post remission, and he was sitting in the waiting room at 945am, before his 1015 appointment, and his leg was bouncing up and down at full speed, and he kept continually having to wipe the sweat off his palms on his jeans. Any small thing was going to set him over the edge today, he had come down with a nasty cold last week and had convinced himself his cancer was back, had even called his doctor in hysterics (he had been assured that people just got colds, it was normal, but he asked to move his appointment up anyway), and so he was especially on edge.

Which meant Clarke Griffin walking into the waiting room REALLY was not what he needed today.

Oncology shared a waiting room with physical therapy, and she went to the check in desk on that side of the room, giving him a chance to quickly hop from his seat and find a spot in a corner, and also to be mildly relieved. She wasn’t here for cancer treatment, as far as he could tell, which… for all their difficult history, he wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy. He studied her from the back while she waited in line. Her hair was shorter, but it had been almost 6 years since he had seen her, but other than that she looked mostly the same. A little older, but still the same.

Clarke was his first love, and the girl he had loved most. She had been in a class he was a TA for when he was a senior in college and she was a freshmen, and had made it her mission to challenge him on every single thing he said, and he had basically loved her instantly, in that way that made him angry at himself because she was so clearly irritating. They had figured it out, when she was 20 and he was 23, after almost 2 years of being inseparable friends, and he was almost positive he was going to marry her. But things didn’t always work out as planned, and he had broken up with her pretty soon after he found out he had cancer, for a lot of different reasons, and that had been that. She had moved away pretty soon after, from what he had heard, and he hadn’t seen her since they broke up, until this moment, in the hospital, while he was already panicking about his checkup.

Perfect.

He tried his best to shuffle down into his seat, and grabbed a random magazine off the shelf, pulling it in front of his face, but shocking literally no one, not even himself, it didn’t work, and when Clarke turned around, they made eye contact instantly. Her eyes grew to the size of small dinner plates, and she looked frantically around, he was assuming for some kind of escape route that wouldn’t look suspicious. They stared at each other for a second, and then he watched as she steeled herself a little, and walked over to him. He had been expecting acknowledged ignoring, so this was a shock. She walked slow, like she was trying not to startle some small forest creature, and plopped down in the empty seat on his left.

“Hi Bellamy.”

“uh… Hey. Hey Clarke.” He wasn’t sure you were supposed to say to an ex that you hadn’t spoken too or seen in 6 years. He didn’t even know what she was up too. “What are you.. uh.. what are you doing here?” He wasn’t sure if he meant in town or in the hospital… he figured whichever she answered would be good enough.

“Raven had physical therapy today… I just got back in town a few weeks ago and she asked me to pick her up today.” Raven had known Clarke was in town for a couple of WEEKS and hadn’t told him? Which meant his other friends probably knew too. Dicks.

“That was nice of you.” He said. He was sincere, but she scoffed. He wasn’t sure he actually blamed her, but he tried to recover. “No, really. I’m not… I’m not trying to be a dick.” She looked at him through the corner of her eye. They hadn’t actually made eye contact since she sat down, an awkward position for an awkward encounter. She smiled, wary but apologetic.

“What are YOU doing here?” She asked, glancing over him. He didn’t seem like he had an injury that required therapy, and he had never told her about his cancer.

“Uhh, i’ve got a… i’ve got a checkup with my oncologist.” Her eyes widened, finally turning to face him.

“You ha-“

“I’m in remission. I’ve been in remission for… a while. Just a monthly checkup. A few blood tests, a couple questions. No big deal.” He wasn’t sure if he actually succeeded at feigning the blasé attitude, but to be fair, he didn’t really care if she believed him or not. She wasn’t entitled to his story, not anymore. He felt a weird sense of rage grow in his belly.

“Oh.. Well.. congratulations.” Platitudes, meant for strangers and acquaintances. He wasn’t sure what category she was even in.

“Yeah… Thanks..”

They sat in silence for another minute, which felt like hours. He wasn’t sure what to say, and clearly neither was she. She opened her mouth to speak a couple of times before snapping it shut, and retreating back into her seat. She finally opened it again, and was about to actually say something when the nurse opened the door and called his name.

“Wou-“

“Bellamy Blake?” He stood up, but turned to face her. Eye contact was terrifying. He looked at her nose instead. He waited a second, and then turned, because she had clearly decided not to finish her sentence, and walked about 3 steps before she finally spoke up.

“Would you like to grab a coffee or something? I’d love to talk. To catch up.” He paused, and the nurse looked expectantly. He smiled at her, and turned.

“Yeah… uh… Raven has my number. Just… text me. or call me. or whatever.”

She nodded, a small smile on her mouth that looked almost forced, and he turned away from her and followed the nurse inside.

He was numb through most of the appointment, barely hearing what the doctor said. The real news came later, thankfully, when they called him in 2-3 days with the results of his call, so he wasn’t concerned, and he hopped on the subway home at around 11, barely even paying attention. Thankfully he didn’t have to drive. He really didn’t expect her to text, but at around noon, his phone rang, and an unknown number was CALLING him. He contemplated letting it go to voicemail, but his more impulsive side got the better of him and he answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hello… is this Bellamy?” Her voice was sort of shaky and unsure.

“Yeah, hey Clarke.”

“Are you busy right now? I’m at Ravens and she said you live close. I could meet you for coffee wherever.”

He contemplated making up a busy day, but he had taken off work for the appointment and he was just planning on lounging around his house and finishing up the new book he had picked up on the rise and fall of the ottoman empire, and that nagging feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away. He had to know, had to have a moment of closure even if it ended in a fight. He didn’t have high expectations.

“Nope, not busy at all. Theres a little local place on Atlantic and Smith.” She agreed, and they scheduled about 30 minutes out. He thought about changing into something else, but she had seen him this morning, and she would know. He didn’t want to give her the impression that he was trying to make himself look good for her. He ignored the way his heart was about to bust through his ribs and run across the room. He pulled on his shoes, tucked his book under his arm, fumbled trying to lock his door, and made his way there. He figured if he was early he could pick a good table, order himself a drink, and look reasonably comfortable before she showed up.

Apparently she had the same idea, because she walked in while he was ordering.

They stood awkwardly near the counter while their drinks were made, and settled into two comfy chairs in the back corner. She broke the silence after a moment.

“I just wanted too… I don’t know. This seems stupid now.” She looked at him for something. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to contradict her or confirm her thoughts, but he didn’t even really know what he thought anyway.

“I mean… maybe it is. But were here now, so we should probably at least talk a little. No point in all this discomfort otherwise.” She chuckled, and some part of him, some 6 years hidden, 25 year old part of him, preened at making her laugh. The feeling hit him baseball to the face, and he didn’t know how to respond to it.

“Very true.” She agreed, which was a relief. “What have you been up too?” It was such a broad question to cover 6 years.

“I’m a history professor, at Columbia. I have been for about 2 years. I’m working towards my Ph.D. in their history department too, taking a few night classes and stuff. Living here, obviously.” It felt so pedestrian, talking about his _job_ with the person who used to know him best in the whole world. “You?”

“I.. uh.. I just moved back. To the city. I have a job as a curator at the Brooklyn Museum. Finished up college, obviously, with my art degree… you know that you were there,” she was talking so fast, her nerves apparent. She hadn’t picked up her cup in a while because her hands were shaking. “…And did a masters, and I was working as a curator for a small gallery in San Francisco for about a year before I applied for this job. I am staying with Raven for a few days before I can move into my new place.” Another weird conversational standstill. She looked at him with this look that just sort of told him that she wanted him to ask something next. He just wasn’t sure what to ask.

“That’s great, sounds like the perfect job for you.” He realised this was somehow weird to say, because while she might not have changed that much, 6 years is a long time. She could be a totally different person. He didn’t know her at all anymore. He tried not to think about that. “I don’t know what to say, Clarke.” It was true. Their breakup had been gnarly, full of anger and cruel words, and resentment dies hard. And he held quite a bit of it towards her for the thing she had done.

“Bellamy I-“ She started but he cut in.

“Your mom called me “welfare trash” Clarke. To my face. And you just… stood there. We had been dating for almost TWO YEARS, and you let her call me that.” She shrunk into her seat. He realised that his words were still coming, a stream of things unsaid, things unresolved. “You let her tell me I wasn’t good enough for you, that my “status” in life would never be enough for you, and that you would leave me for someone with more money once you realised that I couldn’t give you the life you wanted.” She was welling up, but that just made him angrier. She didn’t get to cry about _his_ pain. “And then you let her sit there, and tell you about how much better for you this man and that man and this girl and that girl, ‘ _some young lawyer maybe dear’ ‘perhaps doctor whats his nuts’_. You let her humiliate me. And I just took it, and you apologised to me afterwords, but you never corrected her. You never stood up for me. And for the next month, you just let her keep it up. And at that point i already knew about my cancer, and you just… let her keep at it.” Her eyes widened. He hadn’t told her about the cancer. “And i know you didn’t know, but you didn’t need to know. I was your boyfriend and you just…” He trailed off, shutting his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down. He got his breathing straight.

“So I broke up with you. You clearly didn’t want to defend me to your mom, and maybe you agreed with her, maybe you didn’t, but you never told her. Maybe you did later, but you should have done it in front of me, or at least in the days following. And I had cancer, and I couldn’t pile that on to someone who couldn’t even stand up to her mom for me.” Her face was a maze of emotions, from distress, shock, and sorrow, to something heavy, like grief. He finally sat back in his seat and just… breathed.

“I’m sorry.” That was what he wanted to hear, but not at all what he expected. He almost dropped his coffee. “I was 22, and I know thats not an excuse, but she… well… its my mom. And that was when i still had this weird hero worship complex towards her. I didn’t know how to stand up to her back then. I didn’t know what to do.” He was sure he looked stunned, and maybe a little angry. “I’m not trying to make excuses. I’m not. I deserved everything you said back then… and everything you said now. You were _everything_ to me, and i let her… i let her treat you like garbage. I just want you to… I don’t know. A couple of years later, when I finally got my head out of my ass a little, I confronted her about it. I told her you were… my best friend,” Her voice was shaky, like she was going to cry. He resisted the urge to reach across the table and take her hand. “You were my first REAL love. I had boyfriends, and girlfriends before you. And i loved them, sure. I loved Lexa, I loved Finn, kind of,” it was his turn to chuckle, “but you were different. And i just… I’m just sorry. I know i was wrong, and I’m just sorry. I wanted you to know that.” He wasn’t sure what to say.

“What did your mom say?” Was what came out, entirely unprompted by his conscious brain. He wanted to kick himself. She smiled, to her credit.

“She was shocked to say the least, but i think i got through to her. And a couple years after that I found out about her involvement with my fathers death, so we don’t speak anymore anyways.” That was the kind of bomb of information he wasn’t prepared for, and his subconscious took the opportunity, yet again over riding his conscious choice to maintain the appearance of not caring, to take control of his mouth.

“She WHAT?” Clarke shook her head, and suddenly the conversation flowed. She told him about her mom and what she had done, and that flowed into stories about their lives. The conversation was simple, nothing too exposing, except the story about her mom, and his story about his cancer. She asked about his sister, about his job, he asked about Wells and HER job, and they just sort of traded stories. It still felt weird, like talking to a stranger who somehow new too much about him to ever be a real stranger. The only stayed for about an 45 minutes, nothing too long or intense, but at the end he felt like a weight was lifted. They didn’t hug, or touch at all, when they parted ways, but he saved her still ‘unknown’ number in his phone during his walk home and he figured that was a start.

Over the next few months, she slowly reintegrated into his life. She was invited out for drinks every weekend, now that her friends knew that he knew she was back, and asked him to lunch so often that it was a scheduled thing now, to see her at work or on the weekends. But it was Raven’s birthday were it all came to a head.

Her “party” was just a get together at her loft, with all her friends and her girlfriend Luna, and when he got there it was just the two of them and Clarke. He dropped the 12 pack of beers and the pack of cupcakes he brought on the counter, and found them all three out on the balcony, drinking a bottle of red wine. He tried to ignore the way it stained Clarkes lips pink. He had caught himself thinking about her a lot the last couple of times they had spent time together. Their time together had gotten more familiar, easy like it used to be, and the way he used to feel, at the beginning of their friendship, so long ago was creeping its way back in. He had broken up with her out of rage, and betrayal, and in an attempt to protect himself from her, but it had been so long. Every time they spent time together, she would find a way to apologise again, to assure him that she knew, she knew she had been wrong, so long ago, she knew that what she had done had hurt him, and he felt the wall he had built being brought down, piece by piece. He tried his best to force it back up, to retain the barrier between himself and his feelings, but it was harder than he expected it to be.

The night wore on, and the beers got him fuzzy, and wine always made her touchy, and before he really realised it, her arm was around his waist, and they were sharing the recliner. He thought about pulling himself away from her, but the smell of her hair and the feel of her, warm and solid around him, was like every dream he ever had those first couple of years after she left, and the part of him that made good choices with logic was hiding behind that wall that kept shrinking down, and letting the part of him that led with his heart take the lead. So he stayed, pressed against her, letting himself feel it, letting himself maybe think that he could see past it. that he could forgive her. Her hand found his knee, his thigh, his arm, his shoulder, over and over again, and his brain just kept getting fuzzier as the night dragged on. When it was finally time to go leave, she hugged him goodbye, tucking her nose into the junction of his shoulder and his neck, and when she leaned back, she pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, closer to the corner of his lips but not quite, and the place where her lips landed was on fire. She untangled herself from him and wandered out to go home, leaving him shell shocked.

She didn’t call him the next day, didn’t reach out at all, and he felt like he was going out of his mind. He picked up his phone at least 7 times to call her, and then put it back down. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself, just kept pacing around his apartment. He couldn’t find anything to distract him, and before he really realised what he was doing he was putting on shoes and grabbing his keys and catching the train to her apartment, his brain rattling around as he rode. He knew it was stupid. She had only been back for 6 months, but the anger of a 25 year old him, scared of dying, scared of loosing her, scared of not being good enough seemed... far away now. Far away from the 31 year old version of himself that was standing here now, missing this girl he had told himself it was stupid to miss. Longing for this girl he had made himself push away. She was just like he remembered. She was his perfect match. She was strong, and bright, and beautiful as he'd ever seen her, and full of so much joy. She was everything he ever wanted, just like she had been at 23, and 24, and 25. Just like she had been all those years in between, when he made himself ignore how he compared every person he dated to her. She was made for him. She was a part of his heart. She was his "One".He got to the door, and realised he had no idea what to do. He paced outside for almost 10 minutes, and was just about to ring her bell when his phone buzzed.

He pulled it from his pocked, and her name flashed across the screen. He answered it.

“Hey..”

“Hey where are you?” He paused, but before he could answer she kept talking. “I’m at your place, and you’re not answering your bell.” He couldn’t hold it together, and started laughing, right there on the street.   
“what are yo-“ He interrupted her through his laughter.

“Im at your place.”

“What?!”

“I was just… I don’t know. So i came to your place to.. I don’t know.”

“Just stay there,” she said, hanging up the phone. He stood awkwardly outside her house for the next 20 minutes until she rounded the corner and saw him. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of him, and then took of at a run, barrelling into him, holding him tight. He took a second to respond, and then wrapped his arms around her waist. She unhooked herself from him, and took him by the hand and led him into her apartment. He stopped just inside the doorway, and she turned to face him.   
“Look, Bellamy, I know it was all… a mess. And its only been a little while… but. It feels the same. Like it did at the beginning.”

“Yeah… it does…” He felt like he was betraying some small part of himself by feeling it all. By feeling it again. But they had alway been sort of undeniable. And the problems between them were so long ago, and so… gone. Her mom wasn’t in her life anymore, and she had finally stood up for him, even if it was a little too late, and she had come back, and apologised so much that he had to finally ask her to stop. He had forgiven her.

“i was so angry with you, for treating me that way.” She nodded, and him, taking both of his hands. “I dont want to feel that way anymore.” She squeezed his fingers, and kept her face trained and neutral.

“I understand… Forgiveness is hard for us. It always was. And this… this was big Bellamy. I know i hurt you. And I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it right again. I need you Bellamy. I always did.” Her sincerity was palpable.

“You were my person, Clarke. I never found another person in my life who was as good for me, as right for me, as much my other half… you.” A small smile finally creeped into her cheeks. “If we take this slow…”

“Glacial pace… I promise.” She took a step forward, just slight but enough to put her in his space.

“Okay.” He said, soft. She took another step, and pushed up onto her toes, slow. Waiting for him to meet her in the middle. He leaned down, and she pressed up just enough, and pressed a soft dry kiss against his mouth. She stepped back, faster than he maybe wanted, but he knew they made the right choice. Six years and all that history, they needed time, time to get it right.

And this time they would.

Together.


End file.
